Twisting Fate
by saphiredmoon
Summary: 10 years after the Mission City battle the Decepticon's are still active. But it takes one mistake to change the life of an innocent bystander into one of the most prized things known on Cybertron. A Femme.
1. Primus has a Sick Sense of Humor

**Primus has a Sick Sense of Humor**

Recreate. That was what Mission City was all about nowadays. Ever since the 'attack' almost 2 decades ago everything had to be rebuilt, the lives of people, their homes, and to some their sanity. While others grieved in the pool of their own misery of those they lost, others became stronger holding onto the ties that were still with them. The city used to be just a city. Workers and civilians put together in a single place. But now they were no longer separated; now they had each other to rely on. Mission City had grown a heart over the years, where the people worked together to heal their home. Where they all shared an experience that had made them appreciate what they had.

"Huh, a new café downtown?"

A brunette sat in her office reading a community newspaper as she chewed on her new pencil. Slowly she looked up and out of her window. Waxed and glossy cars seemed to stare back at her as if they wondered why a being so flawed watched them, perfections in technology and comfort. She could almost feel them pout as they were sold to other flawed beings. Laughing at her imagination, she went back to her job, which was filing and being a secretary. Sure it wasn't a dream job, but she had air conditioning and she was close to home. Soon though she would have to leave her parents and go to college. She would miss talking by the water dispenser with her associates, gossiping on the latest scandal their boss achieved. As if he wasn't a freak already. She had been born and raised here in Mission City. She had seen it change as time also changed her.

"Betsy, are you doing anything tonight?"

A gray haired man, about 5'3 addressed her. His suit was tacky, a plaid yellow with an old red bow tie and white shoes from Gucci. The shoes seemed to be the only decent looking thing he had ever shown up to work with. He always seemed to reserve his best outfits for nights in the town.

"No Mr. Freeman. Did you need anything?" Betsy answered.

"Yes actually. I have some files that I'd like to get inputted before tomorrow and I was wondering if you'd stay late to finish them."

"I'll finish them. And please Sir, don't call me Betsy at work. Call me by my professional name: Elizabeth."

"Nonsense. I'll call my employees whatever I wish. Thank you and have a good day _Betsy_." Mr. Freeman walked out of her office.

Betsy gave out a sigh. She didn't like using her nickname at work. Only few had the privilege of saying her nick name. Said people would be her best friend, Brittany, her parents and family, and the cockatoo that belonged to her grandmother. How Mr. Freeman found out about her nick name was something she probably would not enjoy finding out. Putting in her password into the computer she set out to finish her new assignment. Betsy wasn't even half way done when her associates had started to say good bye to her. There went Andrea. Happy and peppy, obviously she was a cheerleader in high school. She always got the best customer results. Then there was Jamie, Derek, Takamoto, and Graciela. All now safely at home watching T.V or trying to find dates for Saturday night.

"I hope dad doesn't eat my sandwich. It better still be where I left it in the fridge…" Betsy said to herself, only to pass the time as she entered each of the files. It didn't take long before she had to go with plan B. Text Brittany.

. hey, B. Wut u doin rite now?.

_Ring!_ Betsy grabbed her cell reading the message.

. nothin much. Got myself a manicure 2day.

"_Lucky! I haven't been to a nail salon in so long." _Betsy thought eyeing her nails.

The evening continued until Brittany had to leave on a new date. It seemed that guys just had a thing for Brittany, she always seemed to have a guy waiting for their chance to go out with her. Betsy could understand why, she was charismatic, funny, and outgoing. She always had a way to make people ease up. How she ended up with her as a best friend still amazed Betsy because she wasn't anything like Brittany. Sure she hung out with others and talked and laughed, but she would rather read a book then spend the day shopping for shoes. At home she was almost always in her room listening to music, reading, or just doing things that needed to be done. Brittany however would roam from place to place eager for something new or different from her schedule. Even what they watched was different. Betsy considered herself a child at heart when it came to what she watched on television. She was still fond of cartoons and comics. Brittany on the other hand would watch _House_ or _The Office_.

"_Only a few more left…"_

Eager to get home, Betsy started to type faster. She was typing in the last few things when a small wobbly noise gained her attention. She didn't notice it at first, but the noise seemed to get louder. Searching for the source she realized that it was the clock on her desk moving back and forth from its legs. Then the pencils in her cup started to move, ticking on the sides. In fact everything in her office seemed to move. Then all of a sudden a loud crash echoed from across the street making her desk fall over.

"_Earthquake??"_

Betsy frantically moved the desk aside, giving her legs movement to slip out from underneath it. She needed to get out; the shockwaves from the ground surely felt strong enough to make the entire building fall apart. Trying to gain her balance as she ran, Betsy went to the closest exit.

_CRASH!!_

Betsy looked back horrified as she saw part of the building behind her become thousands of pieces of debris as a huge metallic figure came plunging through it. Its angered voice seemed to echo through out Betsy's mind, its tough edges screeching her thoughts. She did the only thing she could think of, she started to run again. She could have cried in relief when she saw an exit outside beyond the new cars. She would be safe soon. Betsy smiled as she ran closer and closer. Almost there.

A shot was heard, then a pain on the side of her head and finally the force of the impact. She didn't feel anything, she could only see. She saw herself smash into the side of a nearby car, her blood splattered across its waxed surface. She saw glass shattering, pouring into the air. Betsy thought it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. Then the pain came.

Ripping. She felt herself rip apart, as if something wanted to cut the strings of her mortality, but they would not break free. Betsy wanted to scream. She felt as if she was, but she didn't hear a word come out of her mouth. In her mind she screamed, she wanted to hear herself, she wanted proof that she was still in on piece and that the ripping was just …not happening. Then finally the strings gave way, she felt them loosen and then disappear. As each one faded so did the world around her.

She was being lifted, but she felt weightless. Then she felt herself being placed somewhere cold and hard. Betsy felt her surroundings. Damp, lifeless. Like when you move to a new house and you enter your new room. She could make it better, Betsy thought to herself. Like a new room, she could fill it and make it her own. She could treasure this barren space, no, she would treasure it. As if on cue, she felt her surroundings warm up. She could feel more then her current 'room'. She felt everything that seemed to connect to it come to life. Something seemed to mold into her…what was it…perhaps her head? Breathing then came slowly, but it was such a simple pleasure.

Her senses started to awaken. She could feel, touch, hear, and smell. She was cold, approximately 54 degrees she told herself unknowingly. The ground was smooth and concrete, few grains of sand on top of it. The building was swept today she answered herself. It smelled of dust, oil, and ionized water. She could hear trinkets of glass fall, and metal bend. There was an earthquake…no, an _attack_. She answered herself once again. Betsy felt her mind become clear. Practically crystal. But the feeling went away and she felt her mind return to normal. Exactly how it felt all her life. The knowledge she felt seemed to flab away…as if it was dying.

"_Don't die…" _Betsy told it. It felt so weak right now.

"_**Not Possible. Power moved to original form."**_

"_Original… form?"_

"_**Parted structure is to remain part of your system."**_

"_What system?"_

With that, the presence left her alone. Betsy decided that she should sleep.

--

"_What happened?" _ Betsy Slowly opened her eyes, looking for anything that would help her to what had actually happened last night.

Betsy could see now, and what she saw made her shuddered in fear. Chaos. The building she worked in was in utter chaos. All the fine windows were shattered and spread across the floor. People and emergency vehicles crowded the area. Sadness roamed the air, dread in close pursuit. An ambulance hurried into the crowd, the people parting for its arrival. They walked up to her and knelt beside her front door. They grabbed something, something familiar. Something she had seen every time she had looked into a mirror. Her body. It was broken, and covered with blood and filth. There seemed to be no pain on her face, but Betsy knew better. She couldn't look away, she wouldn't. If they were taking her body, then what was she?

"ELIZABETH!! Elizabeeethh…"

Betsy instinctively looked towards the sound of her name. A woman, small and petite cried and hovered over her dead body. A man held her, desperately trying to stop his wife's tears and his own. Then a blonde woman, tears staining her perfect complexion and newly manicured hands coming up to smear her mascara.

Something chained her from behind and a roar of an engine started up as she was being pulled.

"_No! Wait! Mom! It's me, Betsy! I'm right here Mom! I'm right here…!"_

No matter how hard she tried to speak, she couldn't say a word to condone the pain in her mother's heart. She couldn't do anything but watch her life disappear as she was being tugged away from the building.

**Hi Guys! So this is a new story I've been working on over the summer. Plot bunnies are an evil thing when boredom is apparent. Also I'm looking for a beta reader, so if anyone wants to go ahead and PM me. Thanks!**


	2. Discovery

**Discovery**

Betsy tried her best to cry, to yell for her family. Misery settled into her heart as she watched the building go out of her sight and she said her final goodbyes. Goodbye to her Mom, the most reliable and still annoying mother she could ever wish for. Goodbye to her Father, whose patience was limitless when he was with her. Goodbye to everything she had ever come to know. But now that she was leaving everything, what was going to happen to her? Betsy watched the scenery as she went past, everything becoming a blur. She had only really started paying attention when the truck that was pulling her slowed down and went down an unpaved road. Betsy quickly read the sign that was posted near the entrance of the road. 'Junk Yard'.

"_Why am I at a junk yard?"_

The truck suddenly stopped, and from the corner of her vision she saw a fat gutted man, unshaved, talking to another in the booth to the entrance of the yard.

"Hey Bud. What you got there?" The man from the booth asked.

"Just a banged up car from the Terrorist Site, Bill."

"Wait, ya mean that car dealership building that blew up last night?"

"Yeah, that's the one Bill. This perty thing was going to be taken for investigation you know, since the girl got smashed against it, but they decided it was a waste of time because of the freak storm last night. Washed away any evidence they could get."

"That's too bad. The thing was practically brand new ya know."

"Hey, a girl died in a terrorist attack and yer feelin sorry for a damn red Audi car?"

"It's my job Bud."

"Job my ass…"

"Okay, okay, don't get ruffled. Just put her in that empty space over there? You know, where that large broken mirror is?"

"Gotcha Bill. Hey wanna go out for a drink tonight?"

Betsy felt herself being tugged again and then placed exactly where Bill told Bud to put her. Uneasily, Betsy looked over to where the broken mirror was. Staring back at her was a banged up red Audi. She had dents all over her, paint was almost non existent, and she wasn't even going to think about the wax. She had become a car. An Audi that had been in the room before she felt the pain of something impacting on her. How did she become a car?! Did it have something to do with how she was being 'ripped' apart? Questions plagued her mind as it started to question her sanity. How could she become a car? What was going to happen to her? Will she be used for scrap? Will they put her in some machine and crush her into a mesh of metal? Was this how her life was fated to be? To be trapped in a car, a puppet of mankind?

A thought seeped into her devastated mind. She could feel the pebbled earth beneath her tires. The damp and musty air intoxicating the yard. She could hear the birds in nearby trees chirp in the morning air. If she could still use senses then could she still possibly be alive, so to speak? If she was then that could mean that it was possible for her to move on her own. She could control her new self.

Betsy squeaked in surprise, or what she thought was a squeak, as she realized how easy it was. It was a simultaneous reaction. If she wanted to open her doors, they would open. She could lock them, she could put down her windows, she could turn on her lights. It was as easy as having a human body again. But she didn't have any gas.

She was to remain in the junk yard until something happened to her. Her heart sunk as she realized how long she would have to wait for an opportunity to be free. That night, as if to make everything worse, it rained.

Through out the 1st week, Betsy tried to be able to work everything in her new body. It wasn't until she tried to listen to the radio that she figured out that she could receive, make, and send out signals. She almost giggled in delight when she figured out how to get connected to the internet. Out of boredom Betsy would screw Bill's television and watch as he cussed it out every time it froze. Then she would do it to his radio.

Betsy started to tamper with her signals and accidentally triggered a scan. She kept still as she felt herself being scanned from inside. Her vision clouded as the schematics of her car self showed up. She was a red Audi Locus. She was a bit baffled to how an Audi Locus got into the retailer ship. How the heck did Mr. Freeman get his hands on one of those babies? But it wasn't this simple fact that caught her curiosity; it was the information clinging next to her visual picture. Everything that she needed to know about herself was right in her vision. Her engine, her spark rate, her… wait, spark rate? Rescanning the specified area she felt her heart tickle or what was supposed to be a heart in her chest cavity. It was called a spark the schematics told her. Her life source, her soul in a solid form. It could send out signals, receive them, and bond with others if chosen.

"_Bond with others…?"_

Her vision started to change as soon as her thought clouded her mind. A … file turned up and opened for her. A list popped up and Betsy started to read, a familiar presence slowly seeped from it.

**Cybertronian Femme Schematics: Extras**

**Allspark armor/metal used in specific systems. Nerve systems and sensory systems.-**

**No residue of power applicable to metal.-**

That was it. Only 3 sentences contained in the file and already questions started to haunt her. Cybertronian…what was that supposed to mean? And Allspark metal…? Confusion hit like a wave shattering the shore of her sanity.

-_BEEP_-

Her questions halted and she paid attention to her vision once again as she noticed a new box with a WARNING sign.

_Systems upgrade complete. Preparing to function protoform and armor. All systems functional and applicable. Have a nice day!-_

Her vision faded and the sudden realization of what system upgrade completed actually meant hit her like a wrecking ball. Her senses where off the chart! She was listening to cars honk on the freeway approximately 5 miles away, she could feel the vibrations of people walking across the street and could tell exactly how much they weighed and what age they were, even the slightest breeze alerted her to new smells. All her senses, minus one, had been severely heightened. The only one not affected was her ability to see. The input of information was so vast that instead of fighting it Betsy let it flow endlessly into her mind. At first she thought that her head would implode, but slowly she began to understand her senses and slowed down the ebb of information. Her mind unconsciously putting them into separate categories.

"_At least I have something to keep me busy until something else happens." _ Betsy thought.


	3. Supposed Doom

**Supposed Doom**

"_Another craptastic day…" _Betsy told herself.

Betsy stared out into the sky, its azure blue comforting her that it would not rain anytime soon. So far it was the only thing she connected with when it came to her human life. The junk yard was a cemetery for every single article that had gone through its golden days. Mattresses were piled together; their hides turning in a compulsion of shades ranging from and dim brown to an olive green mixture. Cars were lined up together, bent and crippled out of shape in a way that reminded Betsy of the Nazi camps in Germany. But the sky was different. It was always the same no matter how much she had changed. She could still remember herself looking out of her bedroom window on Saturday mornings taking in the natural warmth of the sun, the sky a peppy blue color.

Despite her calm appearance, Betsy now considered herself mentally ill. At first it had been fascinating to learn about her new self, like a child with a newly bought toy. It had even been exciting to feel and do all the simple things in her car form that usually involved pushing a button. But after the newness went away her worries and fears started to scratch and crawl its way into her mind. She would often vividly remember the entire scene of her death and then she would break down in hysterics succumbing herself to what it really meant in her mind to be ripped away from the people she loved.

But time still continued to go on and after two months of being stationary in the same spot Betsy had gotten to the stage of accepting the circumstances that she was in with out losing herself in the process. So to celebrate she turned on the radio and then connected to Bill's Hi Def signal to watch the crappy soap operas that Bill would never admit to anyone that he watched. He was currently watching the couple that had gotten together after being separated because the guy's best friend had framed him.

"_Damn it Rodolfo! Don't make out with her! She cheated on you while you were in Cuba!!"_

She didn't consider herself a soap opera kind of girl, but it was better then watching the line of ants go past her and the ever so marvelous event of an insect landing on her hood. There were days though that she wondered if she came with any lasers so she could burn stuff up when she was bored. Betsy had to admit thought, these shows were full of suspense and she was at the edge of her seat, so to speak, when Bill decided to cut the connection by turning off the TV.

Betsy stared over at Bill's small booth annoyance clear as she stiffened up and moved lower on one side so that she looked crooked. It seemed that Bill had a customer today. Betsy thought of them more as gold seekers because they almost always came to find something they could find of use. Usually they found what they were looking for in a half rusted and deceased state. She stared at the man who had gotten out of the large blue truck that parked beside the booth. He was rather tall; the top of his head losing strands of hair that had probably been abundant back in the days. He also had a pot belly that was definitely not a beer gut, but it was the kind of belly that usually manifests when one spends too much time on the couch. When he walked he kind of wobbled a bit as if he was adjusting his weight around. He had a Super Bowl t-shirt on and a pair of dark grey sweatpants advertising the company of Nike. She reminded him of one of those extreme sports fans. Perhaps he was one when he was younger? She heightened her audio receptors, quietly listening in to both mans' conversations.

"Good mornin' sir. How can I help ya?" Bill said his voice and stance giving him the impression of boredom.

"Hi. Uh, came around to look for some car parts for my kid ya know. You mind if we looked around?"

"No problem. Go ahead and roam the premises." With that Bill returned to his now cold chair, lifted his legs up to lay upon the small table, and turned the TV back on.

Betsy now put all her attention to the new man and his kid that was just coming out of the car. She stifled a small surprised gasp as she noticed the kid come down from the truck by the use of an electronic elevation pad that held firmly down his wheelchair. She scanned the boy, she realized, and momentarily thought it funny that he shuddered when she was done. He was an estimated fourteen to fifteen years old and apparently paralyzed from the waist down. He had light choppy hair the color of a soft dusty brown and his eyes were a warm brown as well.

"Hey Chip, you ready to go?" The man asked.

"Yeah Dad. Just let me grab my notebook and pencil." The boy reached back into to the truck and tried to grab his utensils, but stopped when the man, his father Betsy reminded herself, got them for him.

"Here ya go. Now let's get goin'."

Chip moved his wheelchair off the platform and moved across the dusty gravel. Almost immediately he spotted her red paint shine blissfully through the patches of grime on her form. Betsy found herself growing nervous as Chip moved closer to her creating a shadow on her hood. Then he swiftly rubbed the grime off her hood with the side of his hand.

It had been two months since Betsy had had any contact with anything besides Mother Nature and the sudden application of Chip's hand on her hood shocked the spark out of her. It was like Chip's hand had scorched an imprint on her, like someone branding cattle. Instantly Betsy's alarm went off, making Chip flinch his hand away and cover his ears. It took a few seconds for Betsy to realize that her alarm was too loud and she quickly shut it off. She concentrated on the imprint of heat that she could still feel coming from where Chip had touched her. She let some air ventilate through her systems as she felt the warmth from the imprint disappear.

"Wow, the car alarm's super sensitive on that thing huh?"

"Seriously. I think most of this car is still complete. It just looks dirty…" Chip looked over her curiously, contemplating. Betsy thought that if the boy thought any harder his head would explode.

"Well, according to the lazy bastard in the booth over there…"

"Dad!"

"Well he **is** a lazy bastard, besides he told me that this here car came from the dealer ship that was in that terrorist attack a month or two ago. Said it was brand new, but got pretty dented up."

"Dad, I think it's perfect. If all of the parts it has are new then they'll all work fine. I bet it'll be easy to take it apart too."

"_Take apart?!"_

He was going to take her apart? Shit! What if he found out that she was a sentient car? Dear Lord above he was going to kill her!

Betsy watched in horror as they went up to Bill, paid him, and got back in their truck. Bill brought over his tow truck and connected her to the back. Slowly she felt her wheels move as she was being pulled out of her spot. As Bill pulled out of the junk yard Betsy yearned to be placed back into the dirt pile she had been in.

They had been on the road for a couple of miles, Betsy feeling the cold grip of death every second, when Bill stopped at a red light. Suddenly a green jeep Cherokee pulled up behind Bill's truck about two feet in front of her. She stared at the people in the truck, wishing that she could be in their place instead of heading to her supposed death. She looked at the handsome driver sitting in the front seat. He had a goatee and a slight tan that matched very well with his piercing blue eyes. Then she looked over to the boy next to him.

Oddly enough he stared straight back at her. He had gorgeous slick dark brown hair. She almost thought it was black. His eyes were a light grey, or maybe it was blue, and his face was well shaped in her opinion. His brows furrowed down as he squinted his eyes a little. Then his mouth supported a newly formed frown. Betsy could feel something odd come off of him. Almost like bad static.

"_What the hell is your problem? Got a pipe up your ass?"_

Betsy stiffened herself up and glared right back at the guy. She did not need this kind of treatment from some annoying guy right now! Then the guy snuffed off her glare, up turning his nose like the disappointed women in the movies did to stupid men.

Betsy gave an annoyed 'humph' as the light turned green and Bill's truck headed towards its destination. The green jeep turned to the right, but the guy still kept his eyes on her, a smirk barley forming on his gloating face.

"_Stuck-up jerk…"_

_**Alright! Hi people! **_

_**Just so you guys know the character Chip is based off the one in the G1 series.  
**_


	4. The Robber

**The Robber**

Bill unhooked the chain behind Betsy, leaving her in the driveway of her killer's house. Chip and his father thanked him and then they went inside to talk to another person, probably Chip's mother. Betsy had tuned her hearing perfectly to hear them talking in what she thought was the kitchen. She didn't exactly know why she was doing it, but it seemed like a good reason to do so. Perhaps she could find a way to save herself? No, she thought. She couldn't even driver herself away, how was she supposed to save herself? But she kept her senses on the family anyways.

"Oh, so you bought Chip a car to work with?" This voice was definitely a woman, perhaps a bit vain with the way it swirled around her words.

"_Vain?" _Betsy thought. _"How would I know the difference between a vain voice and a normal one?"_ Betsy tried to ease her own tension and saying the last sentence helped a little, but not much.

"Yup, practically brand new, Bunny. That kid of ours is gonna be one sharp tack one of these days. With all the tech stuff he has going on…"

Betsy couldn't tell whether the father's voice was proud or in awe. Obviously if Chip can work on cars at the age of 15 he must be pretty smart in a geeky sort of way. For the rest of the day and into the evening Betsy tuned in and out on the family. She had learned a few things about them despite how she had started to view them with more hate and fear as the hours passed. The first thing she learned was all of their names. First there was Trent, the father, Bonnie, the wife also nicknamed Bunny, and finally their son, Chip. Betsy had wondered if they named their son that because they hoped he'd be a 'chip off the block' so to speak. She chuckled a bit after that thought. Since when had she ever thought such horrible thoughts about other people?

Maybe she was having too much stress with turning into a car and everything. She was then suddenly mad at herself. She was not this cynical persona that had conjured up in the last month or two. She was Elizabeth! Elizabeth Kase, a nice and normal girl (turned car) that only thought rude things about others because she thought there was something to be rude about. Or maybe, she told herself again, she was over reacting. Slowly she took in air through her vents and sighed out again. She had not changed. She was still who she was. She was still Elizabeth in every sense. With that in her mind she was instantly calmed. If she was going to die then she might as well not bitch about it she thought solemnly.

"_I'd probably end up being a government experiment and be tortured if they find out I have a 'soul'." _Betsy thought sadly.

If she did get out of this mess what were her chances of being happy? Zero to none she thought. Either they ended up killing her or they would find out. And then what? She would be sold off to the government or put in some kind of freak show. Betsy could hear their voices now: Shocking News! A real living car! A new scientific discovery! She would end up miserable either way.

"_I'd rather die then live my life that way…"_

If those were her only two choices, she hoped they'd kill her painlessly. Betsy eased herself into accepting her fate. She was scared at how easy it had been to give up her life. She stared at the evening sky, now turning into a lovely mix of lavender and orange. Nothing could save her now.

-----

"Mother, I am going out."

"Jonathon, isn't it a little late to go outside? You know how everyone gets when they don't know where you are."

"Their feelings do not matter much to me in this case."

"…"

"It is true mother. I am not their servant. I do not go to where they wish me to. I am my own."

"I know sweetie. It's just…that I wish you did not have to bear the world on your shoulders."

"I am only half of what bears their world mother. And I wish to remain that way. Also, mother, please may you let me leave with out them watching my every move?"

"Yes sweetie of course. What kind of mother would I be if I didn't let you have some space?"

"Thank you. I shall be back soon."

"Be safe."

-----

Betsy watched as the nights in the houses on the street went off one by one until the one where she was at did. The street became quiet, equal to her mood. As the wind slowly drifted by Betsy drifted in and out of her daydreams. Her favorite had been the day when her family had taken her to Yosemite National Park. She loved it. There was always something to watch, something to find underneath all the rocks, and something to catch. She had scared the wits out of her mother that day when she brought her a newt that she had found under a piece of a dead log. Her mother had screamed at her to take it away from her and she in return stared at the creature in her hand. She could remember how she thought her mother was weird because she had been scared of such a harmless and, what she thought was, a cool little critter.

Another of her favorite memories was when she and Brittany had been eating outside of her house one day telling each other stories and laughing their heads off. Eventually it became too much for Brittany when the water she was drinking squirted out of her nose. Then Betsy fell off the chair she was sitting on and laughed at her best friend. She had never laughed that hard again.

Betsy started to sob, her engine making sharp pitches as her frame shook. She would never be able to live those moments again.

"You should stop crying."

Betsy froze on the spot as she recognized that the voice and the person that was standing in front of her were talking to her. She stared in complete horror.

"Nothing is going to happen to you. I will make sure of it."

The man walked over to her side and opened her door. Betsy had started to shiver by the time he sat down in her driver's seat. It was the man she had seen in the green Cherokee earlier that day. He placed his palm on her driving wheel and a shock went through her system as she felt herself start up and then drive out of the driveway into the street. She gaped as he silently drove her away from her deathbed and out from the suburbs she was in and even further from the city she was in. Betsy felt like a trapped animal in her body as the man drove her. She felt her body become vibrant with energy, almost making it seem that she was alive again, but she was not in control of it. The man eventually drove her out to a clearing where her scanners picked up no living signals.

"_How'd he do that?"_ She wondered as he left her interior.

He walked in front of her a few inches from her hood, and stared at her.

"You are Elizabeth Kase, are you not?"

"_Holy shit! How does he know?!"_

The man gave a sigh before putting his palm over her hood. Again Betsy felt the strange sensation of heat coming from him, but unlike Chip his energy went beyond that of her hood and instead went through her whole frame.

"You can speak now. You also have free reign over your frame."

Was he speaking the truth? All it took was a touch from this guy and she could move, speak, and everything else? Slowly Betsy decided to talk back.

"Who…a..re you?" It was all she could think of to say.

The man stared back at her and gave her that stuck up smirk she had earlier scoffed at.

"I am Jonathon. At your service Miss Kase." He had the formality to bow down at her smiling at the same time.

"Why? Aren't I su…pposed to die…?" Betsy asked confusion and suddenly tiredness seeping through her voice.

Jonathon's smirk disappeared as he looked at her with sadness.

"Why am I a car? I don't want to be miserable, I don't want to end up being taken apart by stupid scientists, I don't want to be part of a freak show… I want to go home…I want to feel safe again…"

This was the first time she had spoken to somebody else in two months and it felt wonderful to have somebody to tell all her fears to no matter if the person was a stranger. She finally let herself wallow in her fear and sadness that had accumulated in her mind and started to sob again.

Jonathon rubbed her hood.

"I do not want the life I have now either. I suppose we are the same. Meshed up in something we never wanted to be a part of."

All the hurt, the confusion, and the loneliness she had felt before dissolved away as Jonathon told her those sentences. Here was another person who was also like her. Suffering the same pain but from different circumstances. For the first time in two months Betsy wanted to be with someone else other then her loved ones.

"Then can I stay with you?"

Jonathon tensed and then relaxed as he asked Betsy why she wanted to stay with him.

"I don't know. You're not afraid of a talking car, you're not going to make me suffer, and you helped me. I can trust you."

He laughed after she spoke and Betsy found herself to be quite annoyed that he would laugh at her feelings.

"Humph. Thanks…here I am spilling my heart…er spark out to you and you laugh at me? Thanks a million you jerk."

Jonathon snorted.

"I will keep you then. Just as long as you promise to treat me equal to yourself."

Betsy sighed and got an idea on what to say next. It had been a while since she had joked around.

"I don't know…I mean how can I treat you equally to me? Look at me…I'm downright awesome. I have four wheel drive and who knows how much horsepower…"

"At least I can eat chocolate."

"…shut up you loser." Damn Jonathon was good.

**Another tidbit of info for you guys. I got Betsy's name from a character in a book I recently read. Her name was Elizabeth, but she preferred to be called Betsy. The book is Undead and Unwed by Mary Janice Davidson.**


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